


Missing You

by inumiu



Category: Martin and Lewis
Genre: Basically Dean being left to his own devices for too long and realizing shit lmao, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Praise Kink, Wholesome, slightly ooc?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22244746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inumiu/pseuds/inumiu
Summary: “I want to hold you.” Came the reply. Hushed, sweet….and so, Jerry.“Not before the wedding, Mr. Loomis.” He chuckled.
Relationships: Jerry Lewis/Dean Martin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Missing You

**Author's Note:**

> Hammered this out in 2 hours. There may be some mistakes, there may be some ooc moments...either way, I hope you all enjoy this little fic.

“Yes, yes, goodbye.” 

With that final meeting closed, Dean quickly shook hands with everyone involved and rushed out. The entirety of his day was filled with meeting after meeting - truthfully, he was at his wit’s end. Between the nightclub appearances, new film productions, and fulfilling their contractual agreements for the Colgate Comedy Hour - there was absolutely no room to let loose. To make matters worse, his partner Jerry was currently away on some business engagement - leaving Dean all alone to helm the ship until his return. It was only for a week but was starting to feel like a lifetime. There was no time for golfing or girls. Girls!!! What wouldn’t he do for just thirty minutes with a pretty broad….. 

Speaking of Jerry, he missed the way the younger man would take charge and command respect during meetings. He was business savvy as well as an excellent negotiator. Because he was so good at keeping Martin and Lewis going, Dean didn’t have much to worry about. He could never put into words how grateful he was to his partner, but whatever he couldn’t say with words he made sure to convey through his actions. He tried his best to make life easier for the younger man - but what seemed to work best was just letting him hold the reins and take charge. The man was a perfectionist through and through, and Dean was just hoping that he was doing an okay job of managing things during his absence. 

He darted quickly through the front door of the hotel, raced past the elevators and up the stairs two at a time - rushing to get away from the hustle and bustle of daily life. He sighed in relief as he reached his hotel room, hands shaking as he quickly unlocked it and stepped in, shutting it behind him. There was no better feeling than toeing off your shoes and launching your tie, starch-stiff shirt, and jacket in various locations. With the costume off, he was just Dino Crocetti, a regular average Joe. His pants joined the pile, right next to his Dean Martin persona. 

“Good God, I need a drink” 

He felt like he deserved it - especially after everything he’d been through today. He eyed the bar across the room with a pained look. No, first, he needed to call Jerry. Update him on their progress and on the meetings today. Then, he’d mix a nice drink, kick his feet back, and watch a western or two as a treat. Taking one last longing look at the amber bottles behind the bar, he made his way towards the telephone at his nightstand. If he didn’t give Jerry today’s report he would receive hell in the form of non-stop telephone calls all night long. No, after today’s call he wanted to be left alone. The sooner the better. Slamming the drawer open, he fished for the little note that contained Jerry’s hotel number and dialled it through. There was static on the other end before - 

“Paul…?” 

“Jer?”

He heard background chatter and the sharp noise of Jerry shushing. 

“Paul, can you hear me?” Clear as a bell.

“Yeah.” The corners of his lips lifted as he heard the younger man cussing at the noisy people in the background. Then in a soft voice-

“How ya holding up, Bubbie?” 

Dean sighed through the telephone receiver, fingers curling and uncurling the telephone cord. The familiar Newark accent invoked feelings of longing for the younger man. 

“I dunno how you do all this, Jer.” He whined, spurring a laugh from the other man. 

“Now,” Dean's voice turned more serious. “Let’s talk business.”  
——————————————————————————————————————  
“…..and we have a dinner at the Copa on the 17th next week when you’re back.” 

The scratch of paper and pen in the background. “Is that the last item on the list?” 

“Yeah….” Dean exhaled, relieved that this business talk was finally over. He didn’t know how much of this he could take. He ached for a nice, cold beer. 

“…Paul.” Jerry’s soft tone crackled through the receiver. 

“Yeah, pal?” 

“You’re doing a good job, an excellent job, Bubbie - I mean it, thank you.” 

Dean flushed slightly at the unexpected praise “Aw, Jer, you know….” 

“Honest, Paul. I couldn’t have done it without you.” There was a slight pause before he continued, in a much deeper voice that tickled Dean’s ear - invoking less than innocent thoughts. “I miss you.”

“Me too, Jer. Just three more days.” 

“I want to hold you.” Came the reply. Hushed, sweet ...and so, Jerry. 

“Not before the wedding, Mr. Loomis.” He chuckled. 

“Why, Mr. Martin! I wouldn’t dare!” Jerry gasped, using his monkey voice. Dean burst into laughter at that, he wanted the younger man beside him. Hearing his soft giggles over the phone made his heart ache. 

“I really did mean it, Paulie. You’re doing beautiful. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner.” 

“…..Thanks, Jer.” He whispered, all this praise was doing something to him. His blood roaring in his ears, his body heating up. 

“I have to go now. Time waits for no one, not even Martin and Lewis!”

“All right, Jer.” Dean fidgeted again with the phone cord. ‘Ah, screw it,’ He thought. “Goodnight, Jer. Try to come back to me in one piece?” 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Goodnight, Paul.” The phone line went dead and the loneliness was suddenly more unsettling. He hung the phone back up and went to go mix that overdue drink.  
———————————————————————————————————————-  
Later that night in bed, Dean kept going over and over Jerry’s praises. As a celebrity he’d been showered with a lot of pretty words and applause yet, nothing made him feel quite like Jerry’s did. He replayed those words, whispered adoringly over the phone, until they were etched into his brain like a tattoo. He briefly wondered how Jerry would praise him in other situations. Hidden from the public eye. A room, a bed, just him and Jerry. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. He felt his lower half stirring. 

“Eh…..” 

It wouldn’t hurt to….let off some steam. He had earned it after all.  
His hand trailed lower and lower, his fingers danced across the waistband of his shorts. Jerry’s words flashed through his mind once again and he gripped himself through his underwear. Breath hitching and eyes fluttering shut as he let out a long groan. It really had been too long….

He wanted more. The underwear came off and Dean moaned in earnest as he slowly began working his hand up and down his length. Once again, his mind wandered back to Jerry - his scent, the way he hovered above him, a loving smile on his face as he told him how good he was - how gorgeous he was. Jerry would shower him with praises as he took his time loving him. He would tease him, running a finger along his tip - Dean gasped as he ran his own finger along the tip of his cock. His mind raced a mile a minute in this Jerry simulation, his body struggling to keep up. 

Jerry would kiss him softly and sweetly - like a girl. Taking the time to really love him gently. He slowed his hand down a little bit, trying to be loving and teasing like the Jerry in his imagination. His cock throbbed and leaked in anticipation and he whimpered, self control breaking as he stroked himself harder, faster - hips thrusting upwards as he chased his orgasm. The Jerry in his imagination also lost control, hand working faster, telling him he’s doing good, that he’s doing beautiful. That did it. Dean slapped a hand over his mouth as he came, Jerry’s name coming out strangled between a shout and a groan. He flopped back onto the bed, chest heaving and sparks behind his eyelids as the aftershocks of his orgasm subsided. He reached for the box of tissues he kept in his drawer and quickly cleaned himself off, tossing them into the wastebasket beside his bed. His body cooled as he laid there, his jumping heartbeat slowing to a crawl, the realization settling in. 

“….fuck…”


End file.
